


Seduction

by enbycupcake



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Multi, Trans Anakin, Trans Character, Trans Obi-Wan, Trans Padmé
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10109744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbycupcake/pseuds/enbycupcake
Summary: Padmé is being sent to an off planet negotiation with Jedi escorts Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. What better way to take advantage of the situation than to help her husband seduce Obi-Wan?Or, the fic in which Anakin wears lingerie and everyone loves it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 3k fic of [this](http://enbycupcake.tumblr.com/post/157373090622/okay-but-a-cracky-au-where-padm%C3%A9-needs-to-go-to-a) crack post. What I imagined Anakin's lingerie looks like is [here](http://petbuckie.tumblr.com/post/158042102052/im-not-done-with-anymore-of-the-lingerie-series); the drawing is for something else, so Anakin's not posed like that at all in the fic.
> 
> Padmé is maybe lowkey slightly dominant in the bedroom, and everyone's trans because I can.

Having decided that Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker are to accompany her to this negotiation, it being deemed too important and dangerous for her to travel unaccompanied, Yoda’s blue holo figure flickers out of existence and the Chancellor dismisses her to get ready. Padmé swallows down her growing annoyance at their condescending worry and instead turns her mind to the positive as she leaves. 

She’s missed both her husband and Obi-Wan dearly, and the voyage to this system is a few days that they’ll be able to engage with each other freely, no need to pretend for Anakin’s sake they’re merely good acquaintances. Depending on Obi-Wan’s mood, she might even get to steal Ani away for some much needed stress relief. Pausing in the walkway of her rooms, Padmé laughs to herself. Depending on Obi-Wan’s mood, she might even be able to get him some stress relief.

Pulling her hair down from her braids, Padmé tries to think of how to convey to Obi-Wan that Anakin’s desperately in love with him without scaring him off. She doesn’t think flat out saying it would be met with anything other than reflexive going on about how it’s against the Jedi code and that they can’t. It’s impossible for her to woo Obi-Wan for her husband since they’re rarely together, and it’s not in Anakin to subtly do it himself, guiding from her or no. 

Padmé sighs. Maybe if Ani went in for a quick seduction instead of wooing? It’d be much harder to wave off his interest if Anakin was on top of him instead of beside him, spouting off embarrassing declarations of devotion. Nodding to herself, Padmé decides she’ll comm her husband first thing in the morning to discuss her plan to help him get with Obi-Wan. 

-

Padmé laughs loudly as Anakin swings her around on the landing pad. She breathes in the scent of the conditioner in his hair and lets herself enjoy the feeling of his hands on her waist as he lowers her back to the ground. Obi-Wan is awkwardly pretending to not notice their display, but Padmé is no longer concerned with hiding from him, not after her comm with her husband the day before. Ani’s smile down at her is blinding, and she relishes the way his expression gets even happier as she tightens her hold on him. Pulling away, she turns to Obi-Wan to greet him, giving him her cheek. 

He kisses both cheeks as is their custom, and Padmé lets a friendly hand grab onto him while they start walking into her ship. “It’s good to see you, Obi-Wan.”

“And you as well, Senator.”

“Did the Council give you a breakdown on the customs of this planet? I’d rather not have another galactic incident on my hands.”

Both of them turn to a sheepish Anakin, who’s trailing behind them, admiring the modifications to Padmé’s ship. “It wasn’t my fault!!”

“Of course it wasn’t,” says Padmé, eyebrow raised. 

“It wasn’t like I walked you through phrases to not respond to,” says Obi-Wan.

Anakin grumbles and waves his arms at them. “It could have happened to one of you.”

“But it didn’t, did it?”

Anakin pulls up to match their strides. “I seem to remember you were leading one of the senators on, Obi-Wan. You were a step away from causing a scene as well.” 

“And how do you know I was leading zir on? How do you know I wasn’t planning to follow through?” 

Padmé weaves her arms through both Jedi’s. “Boys.”

“But Padmé–”

“Sh.” She presses closer to Anakin and gives Obi-Wan a bit more space, leaving her arm still locked with his. “Did either of you eat before coming to accompany me?”

“I had a ration bar,” says Obi-Wan. 

Anakin gags. “So that’s a no from us both.”

Obi-Wan looks scandalized and about to retort, so Padmé quickly guides them all to the little kitchenette of the ship. A ration bar when he’s on a senator’s ship? She gives Anakin a look, who sends the same exasperation and more right back. 

-

The three of them sit and catch up while Anakin and Obi-Wan eat. Anakin had piled his plate high, and then he had dumped more onto Obi-Wan’s modest one. Padmé can’t even blame him. Obi-Wan, however, had complained. Ignoring it, Anakin had just grabbed his robe and tugged him down next to himself. 

Now, Padmé sips at her water. Obi-Wan is struggling to stay awake, and her husband is happily explaining how he’s planning to upgrade their fighters after this mission. He’s gesturing wildly, and Padmé lets herself smile softly at him. Anakin’s just finishing up describing improving Artoo’s and Arfour’s cockpits when Obi-Wan yawns. 

“You should go to bed, Obi-Wan,” Padmé says.

He shakes his head. “I’m sure I can stay up longer to hear all about Anakin’s ideas.”

“My ideas are great, thank you very much.”

“I wasn’t trying to imply they weren’t.”

“Good.” Anakin starts to shoo Obi-Wan off the couch. “Now go to bed, sleepyhead. I’ll bore you about design tomorrow. Do you need me to tuck you in?”

“I think I can manage it myself. I have been an adult for quite a while now.”

“True. Look at you; the first off to bed, old man.”

Padmé elbows him. “Be nice. Goodnight, Obi-Wan.”

“Goodnight, Padmé.” He playfully bows to her. “Goodnight, Anakin.” 

“Goodnight.”

Padmé and Anakin watch him walk towards his assigned quarters. Anakin rests his cheek on her head; Padmé squeezes his hands. She sits in the moment, cherishing just being with her husband. They rest for a few minutes before Padmé dislodges herself. 

“We could head to bed as well.” She catches Anakin’s eye. “Have some fun.”

He laughs and twists his hands so he can interlock their fingers. “We could.”

Pulling her arms, Padmé stands. Anakin goes with her momentum. His smile is excited, and Padmé frees her hands from him to start undoing her hair knowing a matching expression is on her face. Upon reaching her room, Padmé sits on the bed and watches as her husband follows, boots loud on the floor. Anakin tugs them off along with his pants and tumbles onto her lap, long legs awkwardly spread to straddle her. Padmé grins up at him. 

“Hello, Ani.”

He wiggles to get more situated. “Hi.”

Undoing his belt, she tilts her head up more so Anakin can kiss her, him hunching down. He lets out a little giggle when he hears the thud of his belt hitting the floor, and his hands cradle her head, her hair getting caught between his fingers. Padmé drags her hands up his tabard, the synth-leather cool against her skin, before pushing that, too, to the floor. Next goes his tunics. 

“I feel you’re overdressed,” Anakin whispers, his lips only barely leaving hers. 

Padmé kisses his nose. “You’ll get to see me naked, don’t worry. Now lift your arms. I want to play with your chest.”

“Padmé,” Anakin whines. 

He prefers to not stay the focus, but Padmé wants. He can orgasm through just this alone, and taking apart her husband is a skill she’s honed; Padmé knows herself enough to acknowledge she likes showing off, even just to herself. “Your arms.” 

Anakin obediently lifts his arms, pouting slightly, and Padmé pulls his binder off of him. His chest is slightly red where the seams were from how long he’s been wearing it; Padmé press a wet kiss to one of the lines. He wiggles in her lap at the sensation with a huff before resting his hands on her forearms. Padmé slides easily across his chest to pull a nipple in between her teeth; her right hand comes up to squeeze his other breast while her left hand settles on his side. 

The sounds of Anakin being pleasured – gasps and starts and stops of her name – wash over Padmé as she plays with her husband. He’s pushing up into her while his fingers dig deep into her skin. Padmé knows she’s going to have bruises; she loves it. Her skirt’s delicate material is getting ruined by how wet Anakin’s become, and she pulls off her husband to look at him. 

The sight makes her grin, smug, while her heart sings. He’s so pretty, face flushed red and eyes eagerly locking with hers when he notices her looking away from his chest. Padmé gives him her roughest squeeze yet to see him react, his eyes widening and his pink lips trying to contain his gasp. She blows a kiss at him before tilting back down, quickly admiring the hickeys she’s left, to suck a nipple into her mouth.

Padmé gentles her touch, pulling her mouth down to below his areola and letting her hand relax from squeezing and pinching to just caressing Anakin. Now he’s worked up, soft and sweet is the way to finish him off. The sounds of gasping trail off into sighs, and “Padmé” comes out whole instead of broken. In her lap, Anakin tries to slide even closer to her. She kisses the tip of the nipple in front of her and runs her finger along the other one; the grips on her forearms get painful as her husband hits orgasm. 

It’s quick, and Anakin smiles dopily down at her, watery eyes bright and cheeks even more flushed. Padmé laughs, she’s so pleased. She guides her husband to fall off her lap onto the bed beside her, his hair haloing around his head. 

“Like my idea now?”

“Mmm,” is Anakin’s response, the fingers of his right hand dancing along her skirt. 

“Good.”

His eyes slide down from her face to her ensemble. “Is it time to take your clothes off now?”

“Maybe I’ll make you work around my clothes this round, hm?”

“Padmé, no!”

Laughing, Padmé leans down to kiss his forehead while starting on undoing her top. “I’m only joking, Ani. I wouldn’t be so mean to you when you haven’t seen me in so long.”

-

The next two days of travel are uneventful. The three of them spend a majority of the time together, minus Obi-Wan’s morning mediation and sleeping – Obi-Wan doesn’t retire first these two nights, so Padmé and Anakin don’t fool around again. 

Anakin glows the entire time, having his two people together with him. 

Upon reaching the planet, Obi-Wan leads them off the ship, Padmé after him with Anakin at her side. The air here is a touch too warm; she can see Obi-Wan feels the same by the way he slightly stiffens before relaxing when a breeze hits them. Anakin, when she observes her husband, is smiling. Padmé softly nudges him, happy for him. He turns his smile onto her before tuning into Obi-Wan’s frequency. 

She pretends to listen as Obi-Wan and Anakin discuss the way to get to her assigned rooms for the negotiations; her and Anakin had already throughly went over the route, and prior to that she and Dormé had assessed the chances of petty crime versus early assassination attempts. The count was low on both scales for the first trip to her rooms; the chances of assassination went dramatically up after appearing in the planetary senate. But for now, it doesn’t matter. 

Anakin steps slightly away from Obi-Wan, out of sync, and Padmé tunes back in then; it’s the signal they had come up with, the surety of Anakin’s orbit around Obi-Wan something Padmé had awkwardly had to point out to him back at the beginning of their marriage. Obi-Wan doesn’t notice it. 

Out of the nearby alley, a figure darts out to grab her. Padmé grabs her blaster to keep up appearances, and Anakin harshly rushes to grab the assailant before Obi-Wan can. His grip on her arm is perhaps too tight, and Padmé already thinks of how she’s going to apologize to Yané for it. At least Anakin’s going over instead of under on his acting. 

Also in disguise, her as a member of this sector’s police, Saché hurries over to them. The transfer of Yané into her care is quick, faster than if this were a real mugging – Anakin acquiesces his hold too easily on someone who threatened her – but Padmé sees Obi-Wan write it off. He doesn’t know her handmaidens well enough to know that they aren’t who they’re pretending to be, and maybe he’s hoping Anakin’s finally putting some semblance of diplomacy before his feelings. Either way, it means that this part of her and Anakin’s operation is a success. 

It’s awkward as they watch Saché ride off, but Anakin follows through on step two. His face turns sheepish, and he rubs his mechno-hand against the fabric of his tunics before turning to Obi-Wan, who raises an eyebrow. 

“I, um, need, uh, to change.” Anakin swallows, and it looks a bit fake, but the next words out of his mouth will hold true because Padmé made them true. There is a rip in his binder; Padmé made it this morning for him. “My binder ripped.”

Obi-Wan blinks at him. “How in Sith hells did it rip?”

“I don’t know! It’s been a while since I’ve tended to it! It is old, you know!” 

Before Obi-Wan can say anything scathing about Anakin’s ability to care for his things, Padmé interjects. “I’ll buy you a new one. I’m sure there’s a shop around.”

“You don’t have to, Padmé, really. I can last a few days without it.”

“Please. It’s nothing.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “Please do take him. He’s miserable without it in a fight.”

“We aren’t even going to fight anyone. We’re just a precaution.” 

“So you say after an attempted mugging.”

Anakin winces; he wasn’t bantering along just for appearances. Padmé holds in her laugh and takes a step forward. “Off we go, then.”

It takes them a while to reach a shop that specifically sells undergarments. Anakin had almost thrown the game when he started to comment on the way Padmé was leading them, but a quick pinch, disguised under Padmé pulling him closer, stopped him. Obi-Wan’s quirked eyebrow just gets one of Padmé’s in return. He’s in for a whole new world of public displays in just a few moments; this is nothing. 

The shop is nicely lit, a soft yellow washing over the entrance room. There’s sections marked off for different species’ body types, and Padmé turns them towards the humanoid rooms. Anakin quickly wanders towards a display of binders. Padmé watches his silhouette, the way his shoulders shift as he sorts through the pile to find his size and color he likes. When he finds a binder he thinks he wants, he holds it up to inspect the quality. Padmé wants to roll her eyes; they’re in a respectable shop, but some habits die hard. Beside her, Obi-Wan sighs. 

Determining that it meets his standards, Anakin turns a small smile their way. Padmé steps forward, cradling his hand that holds the binder to her chest. She ignores Obi-Wan’s curious gaze. “There’s a set of panties that exact shade on the next display over. While we’re here, Ani.”

A blush grows on her husband’s face despite knowing she was going to do this. Padmé squeezes Anakin’s hand before tugging him along. Obi-Wan lets out a sigh, louder than the last, but he moves with them. Keeping Obi-Wan in the corner of her vision, Padmé picks up the first panties that look like they’ll fit Anakin and holds them up to him. His eyes dart quickly to Obi-Wan then back to her; Padmé gives him an encouraging smile. 

“I think these’ll look nice on you.” She gestures for him to hold up his binder as well to gauge their compatibility. “What do you think, Obi-Wan?”

He looks shocked at being brought into this, to say the least. Padmé just waits him out.

“They would look better with a different cut binder, to be honest. One of the ones with a circular neckline instead of a v.”

“Mm. True, but Anakin doesn’t like those.”

Anakin butts in. “I’m right here, still. But I’d look nice in them?”

“Yes, Anakin, you’d look nice in the underwear. I don’t know why you two want my opinion, however.”

Unspoken is the question of why they’re letting him see them so openly together like this. They could have come back later for intimate apparel. There is little room for denial of their relationship here, in light of every moment before this. 

Anakin ducks his head for a moment, thinking. Quietly, he says, “it’s nice.”

“He values your opinion, Obi-Wan. We value your opinion.”

Her statement brings forth numerous emotions; Padmé can’t read them all as they flit across Obi-Wan’s face. She notes pleasure, fear and worry, but the last few motions of his muscles she isn’t versed in. Her husband, surely, could identify their meanings; however, it’s not as if she can just ask him in front of Obi-Wan himself. 

Awkwardly, Padmé transfers the panties to Anakin’s hands. She grips at the sleeves of his tunics and tugs him towards the next display, her eyebrows raised in question at Obi-Wan. His lip curls, beard twitching at the motion, but he nods at her to continue. 

So she does. 

Anakin’s underwear collection grows from simply a binder to a binder, twelve panties, three garter belts, a pair of stockings, and six bras before Padmé declares them finished. Anakin’s starting to think about the bill, and Obi-Wan’s growing participation has started to color in frustration. The way his eyes linger on her husband as Padmé pulls away the last bra seals the deal; he hides it well, but Padmé’s been specifically looking for it all night. 

Ani has him. 

The total is high, but Padmé doesn’t care. The success of tonight is going to be well worth it, and the thought of Anakin in everything is alluring. She hopes he’ll let her take holos of him the next time they’re together on Coruscant. 

Obi-Wan is silent the rest of the way to their rooms. Anakin starts vibrating in anticipation halfway there. Padmé tries to settle him, but it’s no use. He darts to his and Obi-Wan’s section the second they pass through the doorway. Obi-Wan breaks his silence to raise a curious eyebrow at her. Padmé reminds him that Anakin is still in his ripped binder before dropping onto the sitting area’s couch. Obi-Wan goes into the kitchenette to collect water before joining her. 

They’re discussing the dress code for tomorrow when Anakin exits. Padmé doesn’t notice Obi-Wan’s reaction, she’s so awed by her husband. He’s holding his head up high, going for confident despite his touch of worry. Padmé lets her eyes drag down from his face to his broad shoulders to his lingerie; his chest is encased in black, a shiny band of red dancing along the top of the bra and wrapping the bottom that covers his mid-ribs. The delicate garter belt she picked out rests on his abs, his stockings slightly pulling too much to meet it with his height. His dick peaks out from his crotchless panties, pretty and ready for where the both of them hope this night will go. Padmé clenches her hands into fists to resist reaching out to take him, Obi-Wan be damned. 

The gasp Obi-Wan lets out is like an explosion in their quiet room when Anakin plops himself ungracefully into his lap. Anakin’s arms box him in just like Padmé told him to do, and his ass rubs down experimentally. That seems to restart Obi-Wan. He swallows audibly, his hands coming to hesitantly rest on Anakin’s hips. His head tilts questioningly, and Padmé knows by her husband’s own tilt in response that they’re communicating through their bond. Good. From what little she understands of it, there’s less chance of miscommunication. 

Anakin surges forward to kiss Obi-Wan. Padmé feels her breath catch happily at the knowledge that Obi-Wan returns Anakin’s affections – Anakin would never kiss him otherwise, he values the romance of the gesture too much – before she focuses on the continuous growing arousal at the sight of her husband. 

Tonight was definitely a success.


End file.
